For the Night Has Been Unkind
by Aloysha aka Solis
Summary: When Spike comes back to Sunnydale and wants Willow to get Dru back for him, she does the spell but for some strange reason it’s Xander who’s effected…Spike decides to deal. SX, SXO, DW
1. Brooding 101

For the Night has been Unkind

I don't own a damn thing. Sad, innit? Even the stuff that isn't Joss' isn't mine…

Author: Aloysha.

Rating: R or NC-17. Depends on where you chance over it.

Pairings: Xan/Spike, Dru/Willow, OZ/Spike/Xan, and Xan/Oz. Minor: Xan/Cordy, Willow/Oz, Buffy/Angel.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Sex, Slash, Bloodplay, Language, Violence, Dominance/Submission, Heyna!Xan, Solider!Xan, Child Abuse, Non-con, and so on and so forth. I hate planning ahead…

Summery: When Spike comes back to Sunnydale and wants Willow to get Dru back for him, she does the spell but for some strange reason it's Xander who's effected…Spike decides to deal.

Notes: Takes some of the elements of Dimitri Aidan's Soul Shard's challenge.

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Chapter One

Brooding 101

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Spike swayed dangerously, best friend clutched tightly in one hand. Jack Daniels was the name of his friend and, in all the time they'd spent together, Jack had never let Spike down. Unfortunately for Spike Jack was about the only dependable thing in his life.

Drusilla was up to her old games again. The woman may have been completely stark raving mad on her better days but she knew how to play with a vamp's heart when she was so inclined. He'd taken her away from the Hellmouth only to have her walk off with a fungus demon as if he was nothing.

While there were less respectable things than a fungus demon his Dark Plum was giving his reputation quite the beating.

He knew she loved him and simply thought of this as a game. Play around with Spike's heart as she saw fit until Spike came and took her home. Even insanity could get…monotonous after a while he reasoned. Or…he would have reasoned was he not currently walking along the stone ledge on the roof of the hotel they'd decided to stay at.

It had hurt when she'd left. Mostly because she'd rammed a hot poker through his chest before sauntering off with her new toy, but there was some emotional pain in there as well. Part of him wished she'd aimed a few centimeters to the right and just ended the game then and there.

After he'd pulled the poker out and sent the minions to watch out for her and make sure her needs were being met, the sun had had been rising so he'd retreated to the bedroom and slept. Now that the moon was high in the sky he could drink himself stupid with no worries of turning into a pile of dust. Falling to the busy street below, perhaps but it wasn't like he couldn't survive something like that so it wasn't a concern.

Nothing was a concern really, save the wonderfully warm liquid pumping through his system. Not quite as satisfying as blood, but nothing to scoff at all the same. It burned as it flowed through him, racing through him with the blood he'd borrowed from the maid. It was a rare thing to see a vampire drunk from what Spike understood. Angelus had tried many a time, to remember the old day, but he'd never managed quite as thoroughly as Spike managed to.

Being drunk from liquor was an ailment of the living body and mind, though vampires were often effected if they drained a drunk, and to experience it was a sign of…humanity. Weakness. Hiding away from the real world in the bottom of a bottle…

Real vampires wouldn't have cared. They would have found a new vamp to spend a few centuries with, perhaps made a few minions and fucked until the one who was left was forgotten.

Oh, but not him.

His Princess was off somewhere with that damn demon, doing god only knew what and it was nothing but a little game to her. She didn't care how often Spike drank himself silly because that was part of it. With every drink he took he was reminded that he was weak.

Worthless. Undeserving. Far too human and caring. As often as he tried to be 'Spike' for her, she loved to make sure he knew he was still William on the inside. Pale, blind, naïve William, a poetry spouting heart broken fool.

He could torture every human and destroy every slayer but she'd always know who he really was. She constantly wanted him to prove that he was worthy by dragging her back by the hair and chaining her up in the dungeon until she learned to be a good girl.

A temporary fix.

He tilted Jack back for another taste, another swallow to chase the thoughts away but found only a drop to grace his tongue. He groaned, bottle falling from his fingers, and turned to drop the short distance to the roof. He glanced down, counting four empty bottles, then slumped towards the door. He was out. Had to go back inside and get more.

This had to stop. He had to make her stay, stop playing this damn game with him. She was all he had and he was all she had and it was time she realized that no one was going to do for her what Spike did. She was his Dark Princess. Maybe he wasn't good enough for her, but no one else was either. He'd proven it time and again, but she was just getting worse. Since he'd allied with the slayer for safe passage she'd been treating him…well, even more unworthy than before.

She blamed him for taking her Daddy away. He'd let him emotions to get in his way and he'd failed her and their sire. He didn't care. While betraying Angelus wasn't the highlight of his afterlife, he couldn't bring himself to give a damn about the brooding soul or the insane demon that had taken the place of the man who'd taught him just about everything he knew.

If the real Angelus ever returned he'd have something to answer for, but not a moment until then.

He pushed his door open and slunk inside of the suite, letting the door shut after him. He blinked bleary eyes and started towards the phone. He had to order more bottles, at least until he'd decided Dru had enough time to play and he went to find her.

He stumbled, tripping over his duster. He hit the ground and glared at the offending piece of leather balefully. Damn thing. How had it gotten on the floor anyway, he usually put it up what with it being one of the few things to follow him form place to place beyond Dru's doll collection.

He sighed, pulling the coat towards him. He dug through the pocket, in searching of his smokes, when his fingers touched a piece of crumpled paper he didn't recall putting there. He pulled it out and unfolded it to get a decent look. His Princess' handwriting flew across the page, starting in the top corner and slowly declining as it went, as if she's tried to write straight but hadn't done a good job.

__

'Mommy's soul belongs to her special boy, always. In Mommy's Kitten and Dark Trees, where Mommy's Daddy's soul reigns, is Mommy's soul, waiting to be called.'

Spike blinked. She couldn't even write coherently. He stared, trying to puzzle it out. Mommy…Dru obviously, making Spike her special boy. She'd made a vamp or two, but never a Childe besides Spike. Some stuff about cats and trees and Angelus…or, Angel as the soul preferred.

Where his soul reigned…

Sunnyhell.

Spike was suddenly reminded of those cartoons, where a light bulb came on over a characters head when they had an idea.

Dru was saying her soul belonged to Spike and to get it he needed to go to Sunnyhell and…call it.

Which didn't make sense. Dru didn't have a soul…but it was inside of her. Spike could always feel parts of William, around the edges screaming and clawing to be set free. Not much of him, time had forced most of 'William' away, but parts. So he just had to call what was inside and…do something with it. Bind it to him maybe…

Sure, why not. It'd call for some mojo, not Spike's strongest area, but he could rustle up a witch or two. Like the Slayer's friend she'd put the soul spell on Angelus, surely a simple binding spell would be easy for her. He'd get the spell stuff ahead of time to cut down on Slayer interference, lock the girl up…grab that useless goof she hung around with as leverage and make her do the spell. He'd bind Drusilla's soul to him and then she'd have to stop her wicked little games.

It was brilliant.

Now the Slayer's witchy friend…what was her name. Wil something, he recalled that much…Wilma? Willimina? No that wasn't it.

His eyes drifted back to the paper, eyes lighting on words 'Dark Trees'.

Trees.

He smirked. Willow. Right then. To the Hellmouth it was, and this time he'd do things right. He'd play Drusilla's little game again, since this was clearly just part of it, and see what she had in mind. Probably not what he intended, but she should have known better.

He wasn't her Special Boy for no reason after all and if this was what it took to show her that then so be it.

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Xander awoke with a breathless gasp, eyes darting around his bedroom in confusion. His heart was beating in his chest so hard that it was a wonder it didn't escape his ribcage. He was sweating, sheets clinging to his damp skin.

He'd just had the ultimate in weirdass dreams. It'd been like…Alice in Wonderland on some serious crack or something like that. …Well, more crack. Or was it opium? Not that it mattered; the point was he was losing his mind in a very colorful fashion.

It had been in the school library and started with a tree turning in a bright red fairy while angels with black wings hacked the books to shreds. A wolf had played a violin while a snake quoted poetry at two Xanders and stars danced in the background.

It'd been whacked out and not something he cared to revisit. This was the last time he let the girls talk him into eating ice cream at midnight. Clearly it caused some kind of weird mind-altering side effects. He bet it was that honey ice cream that Buffy had talked him into eating. Ice cream wasn't supposed to be that shade of hyper yellow and as much as he liked chocolate it shouldn't be combined with honey flavored things. It didn't do nice things to his brain.

He sighed, rolling onto his side, resolutely ignoring the stab of pain that went up his side. He had a nasty bruise forming, working its way across his ribs and down to his stomach. It hurt something awful. He wasn't sure if it was from flying into that gravestone the night before, being punched by a _Quastex_ demon or getting in his father's way before bed.

Maybe a mixture of all three. Didn't really matter. Another few months and he'd be away from his parents and then he'd only have the supernatural type baddies to worry about.

Well that and the homosexual tendencies that kept creeping up on him. He blamed Oz for those actually. If not for the stupid werewolf and his stupid…werewolf urges Xander would still be happily oblivious to all of the strange homoerotic thoughts that floated around in his mind.

…or at least he could pretend he was. Somehow those Angel-fantasies had been easier to deny before now. Probably because they'd been sick and disgusting where as thoughts about Oz could easily be mistaken as pleasant. Which they weren't.

He should be thinking about Cordelia or Willow, not dreading seeing his girlfriend and…using his best friend. Willow was so stressed out of the 'fluke' that she seemed to be falling apart at the seams and it was Xander's fault. He'd kissed her, hoping to feel…something. A spark, kind of like with Cordy, but he'd felt nothing.

He didn't even feel the spark with Cordelia anymore. Truthfully he was beginning to think the spark was less about her and more about her attitude. The way she took charge and was always in control of things around her did funny things to Xander's stomach, not to mention other more sensitive areas of his anatomy. Kissing her and having her command the kiss had been part of the thrill for him and now even that was questionable.

Now that they were out in the open she was less forceful and…Xander didn't feel the way he once had about her.

He'd been hoping that kissing Willow, who was perfect for him in just about every way, would do something for him so he could go back to convincing himself that girls were wonderful and sexy but it hadn't done it. All he'd done really was put Willow on the road to a nervous breakdown.

Not exactly best friend type actions on his part.

He blamed desperation. Oh, and Oz, couldn't forget that. It was most assuredly his fault.

Two full moons ago Xander had gotten Oz-duty and when the sun had risen he had, after wandering out to score some cream and jelly filled fried pastry goodness, opened the cage to give him some clothes and whatnot. He doubted he would ever forget Oz, perfectly human, with that unnatural amber glow to his eyes.

Before he could even ask if he was okay Oz had tackled him and he'd been pretty sure he was about to die. He wasn't sure how Oz was going to kill him, but he was pretty sure it was going to happen and Xander would just let it.

Oz had looked at him, eyes glowing, before crushing their lips together. The feeling had gone right past Cordy-sparakge to Icy-cold, White-hot, Mind-numbing, and Heart-racing. Oz, while not the biggest guy in the world, was surprising strong and had held Xander successfully pinned to the floor with his body, hips grinding against him, while his hands roamed and did positively evil things to Xander's body.

He remembered his mind going foggy and his body limp. Oz's tongue had wormed it's way past his lips and licked over the roof of his mouth. Blunt nails had dug into his hips and raked lines down his chest and he'd moaned, arching up. He'd been shaking, never feeling so…hot in his entire life.

The moment had been effectively ruined by Giles. One minute Oz had been there and the next Xander was on the floor, hard and alone, while Giles all but tossed the werewolf back into his 'cage'. Xander had been sent home, once Giles was satisfied that he wasn't bleeding, and Oz had kind of apologized later.

Really it'd been more of a shrug, smirk, and 'the wolf likes you' than an actual 'I'm sorry I just rocked your entire world on it's axis by making you unable to live in your happy denial place anymore because my demon felt like humping you in the middle of the library' type of thing but it was Oz and so Xander was willing to let it slide.

So much so that he was hoping that should Oz ever find out about the 'fluke-age' he'd be willing to overlook it and not gut Xander like a pig.

…only not like a pig, because bad flashback there. He had enough problems without bringing up past possessions. Weird dreams, using his best friend, useless parents, gayness…

He did not need anymore issues.

TBC in Chapter Two: Another Fluke, which is already in the works. Review please, makes me feel all warm and tingly. Oh, BTW, I could use a beta so if anyone is wiling to offer…


	2. Another Fluke

For the Night has been Unkind

I don't own a damn thing. Sad, innit? Even the stuff that isn't Joss' isn't mine…

Author: Aloysha.

Rating: R or NC-17. Depends on where you chance over it.

Pairings: Xan/Spike, Dru/Willow, OZ/Spike/Xan, and Xan/Oz. Minor: Xan/Cordy, Willow/Oz, Buffy/Angel.

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Sex, Slash, Bloodplay, Language, Violence, Dominance/Submission, Heyna!Xan, Solider!Xan, Child Abuse, Non-con, and so on and so forth. I hate planning ahead…

Summery: When Spike comes back to Sunnydale and wants Willow to get Dru back for him, she does the spell but for some strange reason it's Xander who's effected…Spike decides to deal.

Notes: Since it's AU I felt okay just rewriting all of the scenes as I saw fit…ahhh, artistic licenses.

Yes, I did mention some Dru/Wil action (woot). Thanks to all who reviewed, you make me all warm and tingly inside, and as such I apologize profously for the delay in this chapter.

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Chapter Two

Another Fluke

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Xander was floating…well, maybe not floating exactly, but he felt decidedly disconnected from his body, hovering outside of himself. Thus the strange kind of floaty feeling he was having at the moment.

He blamed science for this little predicament. Well…science and the evil bleached vampire who had knocked him out with chemistry equipment, a microscope if Xander was forced to go out on a limb, but mostly science. And maybe himself a tiny bit. He really needed to talk to Willow about the 'fluke' thing and explain that it wasn't a fluke but him being a jerk and then try to buy back her love with lots and lots of chocolate.

The sooner he got it over with the less likely he was to get smacked with blunt objects and it might ease his guilt over these very bad, very homo-happy encounters he kept having with her boyfriend. Sure, it'd only been the two but he felt really bad about each of them.

More so this time, since there had been some mutual participation.

It was so Willow's own doing. She was trying to alleviate her guilt by having him and the werewolf do the bonding thing and he couldn't be blamed if bonding included doing a Dunkin Donuts run in Oz's van before school and if said donut run somehow ended up with them in the back of the van, Xander all but in Oz's lap and making sounds he'd never made…in the company of another person before.

Xander really wasn't sure how they'd gotten back there. It had started so…normally. Normal for the Scooby Gang anyway.

"_I'm thinking we should go cream-filled. Those are the girls' favorites." Xander said while eying the money in his wallet. Giles was always good for giving him whatever he spent on pastry goodness back but if he was short prior to buying the aforementioned goodness he was kind of screwed, since they were already outside of the shop and all._

"_Mm." Oz said and somehow, despite it barely being a full-fledged grunt, the noise seemed to say a lot. Unfortunately none of what it said was helping Xander decide. He looked up, tempted to say as much when he noticed Oz was leaning in to him, nostrils flaring and pupils dilated. _

And wow, where had Xander learned what 'dilated pupils' were? Damn health classes and their stupid 'learning through osmosis'. …Wait, Osmosis? Just when he thought he'd retained nothing from Biology but a fear of speaking in front of his peers.

"_Oz-man? You okay? You're looking a little wigged over there and-" _

"_Back." Oz's voice was a mere whisper, harsh and grating. It sent a chill up Xander's spine but not necessarily the bad kind of chill, not that he'd known there was good kind and all of a sudden his mind was back in the library, under Oz and that was soo not where Xander wanted to be. _

The library. Under Oz didn't seem like such a bad concept, actually. Only it was a really terrible concept and was Oz laughing on him? Yeah, he was. Xander could count on one hand (finger even) how many times he'd seen Oz laugh and of course the older teen choose this moment to do it.

Xander was yanked forward until a kiss that was nothing short of heated. Fingers curled in his shirt, blunt nails scrapping over skin as teeth worried over his bottom lip. The kiss was sloppy and wet and biting and Xander felt hot and flushed. It was never like this with Cordy; she was very precise and didn't let Xander touch her hair, muss her clothes, or mess up her makeup too much. Oz was all heat and passion and God _but Xander was hard right now. He allowed himself to be shuffled into the back and moved so he straddling Oz's lap. _

Light streamed in from the windows, through the cracks of the pale blue curtains hung there, and the off-orange carpet was vaguely uncomfortable under Xander's palms so he put his hands on Oz's shoulders, solid and very much there

He heard the rasp of his zipper going down and then Oz's hand wrapped around him, burning hot and everything shut down and seemed to center around Xander's cock and all he could do was stare into bright hazel eyes and rock forward in time to Oz's stroking. Cordelia would never do something like this, touch him like this. It was much too messy for her and she probably wouldn't see the point and Xander's brain was dangerous close to just shorting out. He groaned, leaning down to kiss Oz again and reveling in how out of control he felt.

He had come, rather loudly and messily, only to be rolled to the side and left alone for a few moments. When Oz returned it was with a box of donuts and a wad of paper towels. They hadn't said anything else to each other for the rest of the day.

Not that they had spoken a whole lot before that, but still…it was weird.

"You keep her brush? That's a little creepy…no offense."

"I really don't want to have to eat your friend."

A squeak that sounded a lot like Willow was what moved him fully into the world of the waking and helped him banish all thoughts of the aforementioned friend's boyfriend from his mind. He found he couldn't even be truly surprised when he realized he was tied to a stone something, in the middle of a pretty run down room. This was pretty much the story of his life really. Get kidnapped, get beaten, get tied up and used as bait for Buffy.

He frowned, trying to force away the headache pounding at his skull, to remember what had happened beyond the fuzzy recesses of his mind and the Oz groping he'd been subject to that morning. (Okay, so not all thoughts were completely vanished) It was harder to get around the Oz groping than the fuzziness of course, as he didn't really want to know what had lead to Spike cracking him over a head with a microscope.

Knowing wasn't going to make his head hurt any less now was it?

He and Willow had been in the chem lab at school so she could do a spell and he'd been really close to confessing that he didn't really feel anything for her because she had a tendency to create panic and chaos when she went and used her mojo.

Xander didn't want to end up as a toad or something like that. No amount of self-denial was worth being trapped as some animal or in a trophy or any of a number of things that could happen when Willow tried to cast a spell on them.

Then hell had kind of broken loose, which explained the pain. He was always in pain; it was the story of his life really.

He looked around, trying to place the strangely familiar room, but instead his gaze fell on Willow who was sitting on the ground in the middle of a circle and looking up at someone fearfully.

Xander groaned, trying to communicate that he was awake and in some pain.

"Ah, the whelp's awake." Spike drawled with more amusement than Xander was totally comfortable with. That smarmy British accent was engraved on his mind along with Angel offering him up as a gift, like he was a fruitcake or something. That bastard. Aside from a certain dark sexiness Angel really had no redeeming qualities. He was a whiney, wussy, destiny whipped, cradle robbing asshole; what Buffy saw in him Xander would never understand.

Not that he wanted to understand, because really, eww much?

"Just in time to see Red's little spell." Spike continued and, as he spoke, moved into Xander's line of vision. Same as the last time they'd seen each other: Bleach blond hair, all black and red, pale, really amazing blue eyes…

No. Not attracted to the evil kidnapping vampire, no matter how pretty his eyes were.

"I-I don't know if I can do this. Soul bounding might be beyond my skills. Permanent spells are-"

"You re-attached Peaches' soul and you better well bring my Drusilla back to me!" Spike roared, anger flaming in his eyes. Xander couldn't help but laugh. "Something funny whelp?"

"Well…yeah. You kidnapped us so Willow can find your girlfriend? That's kind of pathetic, you know? Maybe she left for a reason?"

Spike blinked at him then snorted. "It's not pathetic, it's love. I'd do anything to keep my Dark Plum with me, something you're not ever likely to understand. You humans can't understand it; how much it hurts and pulls at you, threatening to crush you into dust under the weight of it. You think staying together for a few decades is commendable but real love lasts centuries and is talked about long after you're dust. That's what me and Dru have."

Xander stared, arching an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"Do you like breathing?" Spike growled, eyes flashing gold.

"Depends on the day." Xander said with a half shrug. Spike's eyes faded back into blue and he chuckled softly. Willow was staring at him, obviously horrified that he was taunting the evil slightly desperate vampire when he was in such a position.

"Get on with it Red."

Willow looked from Spike to Xander and back again. She drew in a deep breath and held up a rose. She plucked one of the petals then, picking up a hairbrush, withdrew a long brown strand. She twined the strand around her finger, placed it in the center of the petal and folded it over. Her hand closed around it and she began to chant softly, too softly for Xander to hear.

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Spike had to admit that Red's little boy toy had knackers, which was admirable. Well…knackers and healthy amount of insanity. He had that glint in his eyes that Spike had only seen in the likes of Drusilla and Angelus after having his soul removed and, since that hadn't been the real Angelus, it didn't count. The glimmer that said they could see beyond what really was to the heart of things and that they understood things far beyond that of what most did.

Knowledge like that made people crazy. The Not-Angelus had it because he was neither soul nor true demon, but rather demon driven to the heights of madness by being locked away for a more than a few decades. Drusilla had it because of the sight and the way it reacted to her demon. This boy…well, it was hard to say.

Spike knew he was terribly under appreciated. He had the thrum of true power right underneath the surface of his skin and knew he was one of the driving forces behind the slayer. He was still growing but was obviously growing into something damn impressive. Wavy brown hair and big chocolate eyes, fully pouty lips, and courage in spades.

A real White Knight.

In appearance he reminded Spike somewhat of Drusilla, though less curvy and fond of black lace and frills obviously. Beautiful in a quirky off the beaten path kind of way. Darla and Slutty were the traditional beauties and the witch had a kind of innocent darkness to her, but the boy…he was all darkness and shadow and secrets, which only added to his attractiveness.

Were Spike not so dedicated to his Dark Plum he may have been interested in taking the boy away from the Hellmouth and seeing what he'd be like if turned into a Dark Knight. The boy's loyalty was unwavering; it's be nice to have someone like that in Spikes corner.

He was very tired of people leaving him.

Which was the point of this spell. When all was said and done he and Drusilla would truly be together forever, as it was meant to be.

"The soul of Drusilla, Childe of Angelus, Childe of Darla, moved through the ages, I call upon thee. Bind yourself to the soul of William, Childe of Drusilla, Childe of Angelus, from now until the world should end. I beseech the goddesses of Love and Destiny to make it so." Red's voice was soft, whispery and contained not a single trace of fear.

Spike wouldn't have thought she was a trembling mass a few moments ago. He could feel the magic flowing through her, changing her somewhat. She was a powerful one, obviously. It wouldn't do to cross her if he could help it.

Hopefully she wouldn't take this too personally.

Her eyes flashed a dull gray and Spike shivered, feeling as if a hand was reaching inside of him and yanking something out of him. He stumbled, gripping the edge of the table he had the boy strapped to, and struggled for air he didn't need as the world shifted under his feet.

He felt something else, like another hand, placing something warm and bright inside of him and, thought Spike was loath to admit such things, it felt nice. In a warm and fuzzy kind of way, which was not okay because he was the Big Bad and the Big Bad didn't do warm fuzzies.

The girl gasped, air rushing out of her in a rose colored puff of smoke. She slumped over onto her side, eyes drifting shut before she even hit the ground. Spike considered her for half a second before sliding his duster off and folding it up. He lifted her head up and placed the coat underneath, resolving to reclaim it later on.

He owed her after all and if he needed her witchy powers again someday she might appreciate the gesture. He shoved his hands into his jeans pocket and glanced over at the boy, who seemed to have passed out as well. Spike snorted. He hadn't hit the whelp that hard had he?

A quick sniff revealed no traces of blood and he didn't smell seriously hurt, though when Spike got close who could feel the tell-tale prickles of energy making the hairs on his arm stand up. The boy's best friend was a witch so magical traces were to be expected and Spike dismissed it.

Best he left the scene of his little crime before Slutty and Peaches showed up looking to kick his arse yet again. It wasn't fair, two against one like that. For two such good and moral figures they never seemed to give a damn about not playing dirty.

At least Angelus, the real Angelus, had a little honor about him. This souled version was just…damn annoying.

He had a room at the motel outside of town. He'd just wait for his Dark Princess to come to him, as she'd have to do now. After all, he had the power now and wouldn't do for him to go crawling to her this time around.

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Xander groaned softly, frowning at the way the stars talked frantically with a spotted animal and a man in fatigues. They were talking so loudly, chattering in his head in high-pitched yelps and each word was like someone stabbing him with…a pencil or something. Not overly painful, but still kind of painful.

A red mist swirled around the stars and they flickered for a moment then started speaking again, voices more high-pitched and more urgent. At least they all said the same thing now, which made it much easier to understand for him.

William.

Spike.

Master.

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End file.
